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In the late 4th and early 5th century the Roman Empire withdrew from Britain to protect the inner part of their empire from barbarian invasion. With the lack of Roman protection the native Britons were venerable. Germanic tribes such as the Saxons and the Angles began invading Britain for land and riches. They terrorized and pillaged the country. It was an era of constant tribe-like warfare throughout the land. The Britons, who were the early Celtic people of Great Britain resisted the foreign invasion. The characters and events in this story are fictional but based off real history.






* * * * * * *

Clayton stood over his fathers dead body. He had on his finest clothes, he was neatly shaven, and his golden crown was placed atop his head. His body was laid across a stone pedestal in the center of the castle’s Great Hall. The pedestal was surrounded with flowers and gifts. After the death of a king, his body was displayed for three days and three nights allowing lords and peasants alike the opportunity to pay their respects. His fathers body had been out for longer than most kings. Nobody in all of Britain wanted their great leader to leave at a time like this. Even though everyone knew he could not help them anymore his dead presence provided them with a little bit of false security. The people of London were terrified for they knew the Saxons were coming.

King Malcolm II; Clayton’s father had been High King of the Britons for forty-three years. The Blackwood Family ruled London for centuries. They were one of the oldest families in Britannia. Their ancestors fought Julius Caesar during his conquest. The Romans conquered Britain but allowed the Blackwood Family to keep their royal court but all their power was given to the Romans. When the Romans left Britain, Malcolm restored the Blackwood familys power in London. He built an army and gathered the support of many surrounding kingdoms. He was a brilliant commander and a prestigious king. During his reign he conquered almost of all of Britain and he was crowned High King. His empire flourished for decades but in his later years it began to fall apart. At this point he was growing old and weak, and was losing authority in his kingdom. Many clans started gaining enough power to rebel and started going to war with each other. In only two years King Malcolm's empire completely fell apart and was divided amongst many different tribes who were constantly at war with each other. The Kingdom of Britain was utterly weakened and in distress.

Across the North Sea the barbarian tribes of Germania decided to capitalize on this opportunity. Ulfric Balish the recently crowned King of the West Saxons was low on resources and land for his people. He sought salvation away from Germania and sailed an army towards Britain. He landed in Kent and marched across the land killing, raping, and burning everything in his path. The Saxon king was given the nickname Ulfirc the Raider.

After the area fell into Saxon hands, Ulfric and his men marched north towards London. Scouts sent word that the Saxons were on the move. At this point King Malcolm was on his death bed and lost the ability to speak. He only lasted another three days until the gods took him away. Word spread through out the land that King Malcolm was dead and that the Saxons were marching on London.

Clayton’s older brother Roger, the heir to the throne entered the Great Hall. Clayton could see the fear in his eyes. After years of hatred for his brother Clayton felt bad for him.

“It’s hopeless,” Roger said softly.

“Father said no enemy could take the walls of London,” said Clayton even though he knew this wasn’t true.

“We’re outnumbered. Eight-hundred of us against five-thousand. The majority of our troops haven’t even seen battle.”

“Like you?” Clayton remarked.

“F*** you, I am your king now. You speak to me with respect and you do what I say.”

Clayton slowly walked towards Roger until their faces were nearly touching. He looked him straight in the eye and said, “You are no king.”

The brothers stood in each others faces and stared each other down. They were both waiting for the other one to break. Suddenly they heard the sound of a horn blaring in the distance. The two brothers faces dropped. It was the horn of the Saxons, they were getting closer. Clayton looked at his brother seeing how he would respond.

Clearly terrified he stuttered, “Th-th-those fools. They're g-g-giving their position away.”

Clayton stood silently for a moment and gazed out the window. “They don't want us to be surprised.... They want us to be scared.”






* * * * * * *

King Ulfric and his generals sat around the large rectangular table inside the Kings tent. They had a map of London with stone pieces representing their forces.

Ragnir Rollick took the blue piece in the shape of a fox and dragged it across the map. “Our foot soldiers should advance first carrying the ladders. If we attack the north side they will take less fire because they won't be able to fit all their archers along the north wall. Once they waist all their arrows on the foot soldiers we'll bring in our elite units and archers. The archers will give covering fire while our raiders take the walls. All the Britons will be too close together and it will cause chaos in their ranks. Once the walls are taken it will be a quick and easy victory.”

“Well that's the problem isn't it, the walls. These aren't like the walls in Germania. These walls are forty feet tall of solid stone. If we attack from one side we are taking away our numbers. I say forget a siege. Lets starve them out like rats, surround the city, let no one in or out. After two weeks they'll be so hungry they'll be eatin' each other alive,” said Olaf Ironfist, another one of Ulfric's generals.

Ragnir was annoyed by this remark, “Great plan my Lord, now how do you suppose we feed our own troops? We don't have two weeks to spare, our men are growing hungry and anxious. We need to sack this city today or these men are going to rebel.”

Tension was growing between the two as they stared eye to eye. “I'll kill any man who even considers rebelling with my own hands.”

“Well isn't that brilliant idea, lets just starve our men then you can take care of them all by yourself, because we all know of how great of a warrior you are,” said Ragnir sarcastically.

“Watch it boy, just because you're father is of high birth don't make you as witty as you think you are. I've seen sieges boy, I've seen what they do to soldiers. A man loses a lot o' hope running up to a wall as arrows fly by his head watchin' all his friends die right next to him. We can't just attack one side and if you give me lip again I'll cut that pretty little head of yours clean off.”

“Really? Why don't you give it a shot,” said Ragnir slightly pulling his sword from his sheathe.

“Enough!” shouted King Ulfric. Ulfric was a quiet man, he rarely spoke but when he did he spoke wisely. “Ragnir, you are right we must attack today we do not have the resources to wait any longer. But we can't afford to attack from only one side, it's too risky. Olaf, you are correct these walls will be a challenge, but like I said we do not have the time to starve them out.” Ulfric stood up and set up the army pieces on the map. “We will split our army evenly into thirds. I'll attack from the north, Lord Olaf will attack from the west, and Lord Harald will attack from the south. We will send all our infantry in one wave carrying ladders, archers will march behind them and cover our infantry once they are in range. Lord Harald and Lord Olaf's men will enter the city by ladders, my men will use ladders and ram the door. I will be separated from most of you during this battle. I'm counting on all of you to lead us to victory. This will not be an easy victory but with strength and the blessing of Wodan this battle can be ours.” All the generals bowed their heads. “Alert the troops, we march in an hour.”

Ulfric was now alone in his tent and he sat in meditation. He poured himself a full glass of wine and drank all of it. He poured himself another full glass. He began to day dream and started remembering the past.






* * * * * *

The first time Ulfric killed a man he was seven. A peasant who had stolen a horse was put on trial. The man swore he was innocent and begged Ulfric's father who was a Saxon Chieftain for mercy.

His father laughed at the peasant and said, “I'll take care of this one, boy come with me.” His father took Ulfric and the peasant behind the Kings house. He handed Ulfric a dagger. “You do it.” Young Ulfric cried and told his father he couldn't. “It's a crime to disobey your King and if you don't do it, I'll have to kill you as well.” So Ulfric did it and after that day murder had no effect on him. His father abused him all his childhood. He would get drunk and beat Ulfric for fun. His father was deeply in love with his wife, they had their first son and named him Jon. Jon was born weak and was constantly ill, he was not worthy of being a Saxon heir. That same year his wife had Ulfric but died giving birth to him. Ulfric's father blamed him and always said, “You killed your mother.”

After this his father became very violent and started drinking heavily. The lands of Germania were constantly at war. Ulfric lived in a world of violence and it just became a part of him. He spent his youth training with a sword and building his strength to protect himself from his abusive father. Where as is older brother just spent his days hiding in his room, embarrassed that he was a weakling. On Ulfric's thirtieth birthday his father died of a heart attack. As he laid on the floor dieing he spoke his last words, “Why could the gods not give me a son.”

Ulfric planned to take his fathers position even though his brother was the heir. He grew up to be a strong, tall, and powerful man. His brother was still the skinny hermit that hid in his room. When Ulfric ordered men to seize his brother they found his body hanging from a rope in his room. Though Ulfric wanted the throne he blamed himself for his brothers suicide.

Ulfric fought many wars in Germania and conquered all his rivals. He personally beheaded any chieftain who opposed him and took pleasure in it. Throughout his reign he had thousands of people slaughtered. Word spread that the Romans had abandoned Britain and that it was full of riches and resources. Famine had struck Germania and Ulfric decided to migrate his people.

And now he was here, drunk, and preparing to sack a city and massacre it's people. And at this moment he realized; he had turned into his father. He poured another glass of wine.





* * * * * * * * *

The Saxon horn were growing louder and the streets of London became frantic. People running in fear, children crying, thieves stealing everything in sight. Clayton could hear the soldiers whisper that it was hopeless and perhaps if they surrender quickly their lives would be spared. Clayton ran up the castle halls looking for his brother. He found him in his room, sitting on the foot of his bed staring out the window. He had a alchemy book in his hand, he had loved alchemy since he was little and was much more interested in that than becoming king.

“You're city is in chaos and the enemy is coming. You have to bring back order and prepare the defenses!” instructed Clayton.

“Why, we're all going to die anyway,” said Roger hopelessly.

“There's still hope if you take command. We have the walls of London and the finest archers in the land. We still have a chance, what would father do.”

Roger turned his head and looked at his brother. “Clayton you were right. I am no king. You should have been born first, not me. Father always favored you and I was a mistake. I am good for nothing expect sitting in my room reading my books. There may be hope Clayton but it is your destiny to protect these people, not mine.” Roger stood up and walked over to Clayton. “Kneel,” Clayton knelt in front of his brother and lowered his head. “I here by crown you High King of Britain and divine guardian of its people. Stand now.” Clayton stood to his feet and his brother placed his hand on his shoulder. “Go now and save our city.”

In the castles barracks the soldiers were yelling amongst each other. Some where saying they should all just abandon the city. Others called them cowards and threatened to kill them. Swords were being drawn, mugs of ale were being thrown, and total chaos in the barracks was growing. King Clayton walk down the hall of barracks wearing a suit of shining silver armor with his family sigil of a stag carved on his chest plate. He had one hand on his sword as he walked with pride. The whole barracks grew quiet upon his appearance. He looked like a king.

“Lord Roderick, why are my soldiers not preparing the defenses,” asked Clayton with authority.

Lord Roderick, Claytons fathers most trusted general stuttered. “Um...my apologizes my lord...I'lll uh.....” Roderick and all the soldiers were stunned by Claytons rise to authority.

Clayton looked around the room at all of his soldiers. They looked nervous but he could feel a sense of inspiration in them because of his presence. “The enemy will soon be at our doorstep. Find every man and able boy in the city and arm them. Put all the women and children in the keep. Suit up soldiers and prepare for battle.” They all obeyed and began preparing.





* * * * * * * * *

Ulfric and his generals rode on horses while his army marched behind him. Ulfric could see London about a mile from where they were. He raised his arm in the air ordering the troops to stop walking.

Ulfric turned his horse around and rode it back and worth across the front line of his army. He looked at his soldier and started shouting to them. “You are the strongest and fiercest army in the world. They are scared of you, let us show them that they should be scared of the Saxons,” he paused for a moment and the soldiers roared with blood lust. “Endless plunder lies within that city and it's waiting for you to take it. Tonight you shall all feast like kings. Take their city and leave none alive, kill them all!” The soldiers screamed at the top of the lungs and bashed their swords against their shields. The Saxon horns blared in the wind and the soldiers started moving into position.





* * * * * * * * *

Clayton ordered all the soldiers to the main gate. He stood in front of eight-hundred British soldiers, some were veterans others were just boys. He could see the fear in their eyes, they looked to Clayton for hope. In the distance they could all hear the screaming Saxons. Clayton stood in front of them and shouted, “I am no higher than any of you. Today there are no kings, there are no knights, and there are no peasants. We are all soldiers of Britain and together we are one. You have heard stories of the Saxons, you have heard they are strong and fierce warriors. They underestimate you, let us show them that we are stronger than them. Make them fear the Britons, make them die terrified. This is our land, do not let them take it. All the bards of Britannia will sing of the day that the Britons of London fought bravely to defend their home.” The Britons cheered with courage and pounded their spears against the ground. “Now go, fight hard, defend our walls, and send these barbarians to their graves!”

The Britons cheered and marched into their positions. Soon the walls of London were completely guarded by archers and swordsmen. Clayton stood on the north side of the wall right above the city gates. He could see that the Saxons weren't attacking from the east. He ordered all soldiers guarding that wall to move to the north wall. Soon both armies were completely positioned and waiting. An hour passed, the entire city was silent, they sat and waited for the Saxons to proceed. In the castle keep mothers held their children and prayed. Officers walked back and worth behind their soldiers who looked over the wall waiting for orders. Then there was a sudden long blast of a horn and the Saxon started started marching forward.

“Prepare yourselves,” screamed King Clayton. “Remember who you are, remember whose city this is.” The Saxons carried ladders and pushed a ram towards the wall. Clayton anxiously waited for them to get within reach of their archers. The Saxons began picking up speed. “Ignite arrows!” Clayton ordered. All the archers put an arrow head in the torches next to them and placed it in their bow. “Pull!” yelled Clayton. Time seemed to go slow for a second in Clayton's eyes as he waited for the Saxons to reach the perfect distance. “Hold!” he ordered. The enemy was getting closer, “hold!” They were at full speed now and just within distance. “Fire!” The archers released their bows and their fire arrows shot directly at the charging enemy. They raised their shields attempting to block the volley. Large numbers of Saxons were hit and lit on fire, they screamed and fell to the ground. “Reload!” ordered Clayton. Again the archers lit their arrows and prepared to fire. “Open fire!” Tons of arrows flew through the sky piercing the enemy and sending them to the ground. “Aim for the ram!” screamed Clayton. He knew if their ram was burned the Saxons attacking the North side would have to retreat.

The British archers were accurate and were taking down Saxons left and right. The ram was heavily covered with armor and would not ignite. They were getting close to the wall. A unit of spear men waited at the entrance of the gate. After a final volley of arrows the Saxons had reached the walls.






* * * * * * * *

Ulfric rode his horse up to the wall dodging arrow fire. “Start the ram! Lift the ladders!” he commanded. He soldiers started lifting the ladders and held them firmly in the ground.

The men holding the ram screamed, “heave!” followed by a bash at the gate. The large wooden doors at the gate gave in a little. The Britons dropped rocks from above and they slammed against Saxon helmets.

“Cover your heads,” he called.

The ladders where in place and his soldiers started climbing to meet the Britons at the top. They managed to push a few of the ladders over throwing the soldiers on them to their deaths.

“Hold those ladders down!” he screamed.

The ram smashed into the door again chipping a large hole in it. Instantly British spear poked through the hole stabbing the soldiers in front of it. The arrow fire had stopped and swordsman now guarded the wall. Ulfric had men with greatswords climb the ladder first to take huge swings and slice up all the Britons in front of the ladder. Another swing of the ram sent the doors flying open and all the Saxons at the gate charged in. Most of the ladders and many soldiers had reached the top. They had finally breached the walls.






* * * * * * * * *

“Hold the walls! Push them back!” Clayton screamed. The Saxons had climbed their ladders and were on the wall now. Britons and Saxons clashed swords all across the wall. Clayton jumped down from the gate and swung his sword at a Saxon with an ax. The Saxon blocked Clayton's blow with his shield and was thrown backwards against the edge of the wall. Clayton sent his sword through the Saxons stomach and pushed him off the wall. Clayton looked down at the falling man, he landed right in front King Ulfric's horse. Ulfric and Clayton made eye contact. They stared at each for a moment and there was a strange look of compassion on both of their faces. A screaming Saxon came running at Clayton causing him to look away. He dodged the swing of the sword and cleanly counter swung at the man. His longswords blade cut through the man's neck. When he looked back at the ground, Ulfric was gone.

Clayton looked down at the gate to see the Saxons had broken through. His spearmen where fighting hard but struggling to keep the hordes of Saxons back. The ground surrounding the city was filled with the dead and the wounded, and the piles just kept growing. Clayton fought with his men on the wall killing as many as he could. The sounds of swords clashing, men screaming, and wounded crying filled the city. The women in the keep covered their childrens ears from all the horrible sounds. The Britons were putting up a good fight but the Saxons were pushing forward.






* * * * * * * *

Ulfric rode to the gates. His soldiers and the Britons were trying to push each other back. Below their feet they stepped on dead bodies. The Britons were fighting well and hit Ulfrics forces hard with their arrows. He had underestimated these people.

His soldiers at the wall were pushing through. There was no way he could enter the city on his horse with the hundreds of soldiers piling through the gate. He jumped off it and slapped it's back side so it would run away from the battle.

He pulled his greatsword off his back and started walking towards the gate. “Come on men, push harder!” he screamed as he stormed into the battle. His presence inspired his men and weakened the morale of the Britons guarding the gate. A Briton officer was giving orders and telling the men to hold the line. Ulfric charged at the man and with two swings cut the mans head clean off. He picked up the dead mans head and held it in the air. He screamed as loud as he could which made all his men scream with him. At the sight of this all the Britons guarding the gate retreated into the city. Ulfric and his men stormed after them. He looked up at the walls to see that his men were pushing them back.





* * * * * * * *

The battle was being lost. Clayton could see his men being slaughtered on all sides of the wall. He tried desperately to convince his men to fight on but they were growing tired and the hordes of Saxons seemed endless. At the gate his soldiers had retreated to the castle and on the south and west wall almost all the men had been killed. He couldn't let all his men die along these walls.

“Retreat! Retreat back to the castle!” he shouted.

Soon all the men echoed his order. Soldiers ran for their lives screaming “retreat!” as blood thristy Saxons chased them. Clayton and his men ran with all their energy back to the castle. Skirmishes were fought along the streets and Saxons started breaking into houses and shops. Buildings were being set on fire and British soldiers were surrendering only to be killed. Finally Clayton and the surviving soldiers reached the castle. Clayton looked out the doors of the castle to see his city being torn to pieces below him.

“Barricade the doors,” he said.





* * * * * * * * * * *

Ulfrics men were scattered throughout the city killing anyone they saw, raping any women hiding in her house, and burning countless buildings after taking all the food and plunder from them.

Ulfric blew his horn to rally his men. “To the castle doors!” he called. All his men abandoned their pillaging and started running towards the castle. Ulfric looked around him to see a beautiful city being destroyed at his hands. He saw hundreds of dead bodies, crying women and children, burning houses. This was these peoples home and he took it from them, for his own desire. The childhood memories started coming back. Please god not the memories.





* * * * * * * * * * *

There was about fifty surviving men who made it to the castle. The men who were still strong enough took everything they could to block the door. Clayton could see in all their eyes that they knew they were doing to die.

His fathers body was still rested on the pedestal in the castle. Clayton knelt down to his father and placed his hand on his face. “I'm sorry father. I'm sorry I could not protect your city”

The Saxons started smashing at the door and all the Britons ran and pushed their weight against it. Clayton stayed with his father and just stared at him. “I should have led them better. You could have done it, you would have protected the city.” Clayton broke into cries, “I've failed you father. Forgive me.”

Clayton buried his head against the stone pedestal. He listened as the Saxons continuously smashed against the door. Clayton thought about his people after they brake through the door. They'll kill the children then rape the women, then kill them to. The city will burn.....my city will burn, my people will die. All Clayton felt was rage. He stood to his feet. “Men, form up on me!” All the soldiers against the wall ran to King Clayton and formed a line. Clayton stood in front of them and said, “You are the last warriors of Britain. And this is our final stand. These men are taking our home and I will die to defend it. What say you?” All the soldiers cheered. “They will write of this day. The day the last soldiers of Britain fought till their last breathe to defend their home!” The Saxons broke through the door and rushed in. “Will you fight with me!” Clayton asked his soldiers. All his men screamed with pride and charged into the Saxon horde. They fought until the last man fell.